Winter's Waltz
by Wings Of Sanguine
Summary: Frozen AU: Hans has won Arendelle's throne, and forces Queen Elsa to watch him every night in the ballroom. One-shot. (DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FROZEN OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS)


"Get up."

Elsa kept her eyes shut, hoping the harsh command would go away, leave her alone. She curled herself tighter into the thin blanket, trying her best to cover her ears to drown him out. It was no use.

"I said get up!" he barked, and the paper-thin blanket was ripped away. She curled into a ball, shivering violently as she held her hands- or what were her hands- close to her, the cold metal of the bonds digging into her fair skin.

"Must I do everything around here?!" she heard him mutter, and she soon found herself on the floor, cold stone pressed against her cheek. Chains clinked as she laid there for a few seconds, before there was a sharp kick.

"You are so useless!" he spat at her, sending a trail of saliva straight for her face. It hit its mark, landing in her eyes. But she didn't care. She was already dirty anyway, with her ice dress in rags, and she knew it gave him a boost of confidence to see her like this.

Cold, weak…. powerless, practically. Slowly, with shaking shoulders, she sat up, the sleeve of her dress falling down her arm to reveal a bony shoulder, marred with scratches and dirt and dried blood. Legs quivering, Elsa stood up, trying her best to hold her head high as she once used to. It always helped to try and look powerful, to at least try and intimidate her opponent.

Unfortunately, her opponent wasn't the least bit scared. Instead he scowled, digging into the pocket of his breeches until he produced a key, the gold gleaming bright in the dimly lit cell. Elsa stared at it in wonder. It was like a beacon, brighter each time he whipped it out, and she found herself looking forward to see it each time he came down to her cell, longed for the rough clanking of her bonds as he unlocked them. Once they fell away, Elsa wrung her hands slightly, hoping the sweat that had beaded on her fingers would evaporate, but nothing happened. The air was too cold.

"You better do your job right this time," Hans ordered, narrowing his beautiful brown-green eyes at her. Instead of appreciation, they were filled with malice. She remembered the first time she displayed her powers he had an astonished look etched into his features.

That look was gone, replaced now with hatred and cruelty. And Elsa knew it was aimed at her. Nodding, she cast her eyes down at the ground, at her feet. A pair of heels adorned her toes, ones she had made herself. When she first made them, they were beautiful, crystals catching the sunlight with each step. Now they were dirty, mud and sweat and blood caking the surface of them, obscuring whatever dazzle there was to them. Of course, she daren't take them off, for fear that Hans might take them away- or worse, keep them hidden away so she would no longer be able to find them.

The shoes were all she had left of the memories from her time on the North Mountain, after all.

Elsa felt the tears form in her eyes, and before she knew it, river were running down her cheeks. Hans widened his eyes, furrowing this eyebrows in…. was it sympathy? Elsa couldn't tell. Slowly, she watched as he reached out a gloved hand, and she felt the warm fabric caress her chin, slide across her ear to caress her cheek. Hans heaved a sigh, saying, "It's okay, Queen Elsa." Elsa widened her eyes at him, confusion obvious in her expression.

_He used my title…._, she thought with worry- but should she be worried? She wasn't too sure of that either. Shaking his head slowly, he smiled- not the haughty smirk as he usually had on though. It was warm and welcoming- surely not anything he had looked at her with before. Elsa felt a tremble run through her bones as she stiffened her back, unaware of how she should respond. She let out a small gasp as Hans took her hand in his, guiding ghee out of the cell and into the Grand Hall.

Looking around, she felt tears start to form in her eyes. The blue-purple wallpaper was replaced with bright green with a pink rose mailing detail lining it, stripes falling down in an alternating pattern. The floor was freshly polished and waxed, and Elsa could see their reflections in the wood. It looked so nice- it was hard to believe Hans would bother keeping up with the place.

"Like it?" Hans asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. He didn't really care what she thought about the new design, but she shouldn't help but stare at it in wonder. Elsa couldn't help thinking it emended her of something…. but what?

"I had the walls made specifically for me," Hans went on to explain, "does it remind you of anything?" Elsa just stared at him, stared at the walls, realizing the portraits had been removed- even the one of her parents. Everything had been covered in the green flowery paper, a sweet shield to hide anything cruel underneath. Rolling his eyes, Hans snapped his gloved fingers, making Elsa jump.

Almost immediately two servants appeared from the shadows, grabbing her from behind. Their faces freshly cleaned, clothes recently pressed, Elsa glared at them as they dragged her towards a wall- a set of chains had been attached, the metal cold as they shoved her into a sitting position on the floor, snapping the cuffs in place. Elsa could tell on their faces they were upset- they were watching a woman they once looked up to degraded to almost nothing in a single night. She watched as a set of musicians ambled in slowly, some casting her sympathetic looks, others trying their best to ignore her completely.

Then it dawned on her- the green and rose designs of the walls. The same design was on the skirt of her sister's dress. The green dress she wore to her coronation…. _That's disguising! _she thought with malice, sending daggers to the Prince of the Southern Isles' back. Clapping his hands, the musicians scrambled to their positions, picking up their instruments to start playing the music. Hans sent a look to Elsa, a smug grin, eyes full of triumph.

"Tonight shall be a special engagement indeed!" Hans announced, his voice echoing coldly off the walls of the cavernous room. He gestured to the Queen, "for our gracious Queen has decided to join us this evening!" The room was silent as he approached her, and the former Queen of Arendelle pressed herself against the wall, although she knew it was no use. Reaching into his pocket, Hans produced the key- the golden metal a gleam of hope in her eyes. The key to her freedom every now and again. Hans noticed the way she widened her eyes at it, how she almost drooled to obtain it.

He held it up in front of her, a few inches from her face, delighted to see how she crossed her eyes just to focus on the trinket. _Interesting…._ he thought, crouching down to one knee.

"You want this?" he asked. Biting her lip, she nodded. With a quick flick of his wrist, he tossed it to the ground, the golden ticket to her freedom skittering just out of her reach. Elsa's eyes fell, and she sighed heavily, shoulders rising and falling with pain. He shrugged at her, eyes turned up with false sympathy, "Oops. How clumsy of me! I guess you'll have to wait until the party is over then, huh?"

Elsa said nothing. Hans did not deserve an answer.

The Prince of the Southern Isles huffed, a bored look replacing his smug smile as he then trailed his hand across her hair, tracing each flame licked strand with his finger, digging knots into the braid that hung over her shoulder. They met eyes as he gripped the end in his hand, Elsa crying out with pain as he suddenly gave a sharp yank- so hard that she thought he was going to rip her hair from her scalp, mane even take the scalp with it, it hurt so terribly. Getting up, Hans clapped his hands once more, and Elsa heard the rickety wheels of a cart entering the room, although she daren't look up.

She knew what it was. And it was her fault. She winced as she felt Hans dig into her side with the pointy toe of his boot.

"Look at her, Elsa," Hans said, no longer using her title, "look at what you did!" Slowly, Elsa lifted her head, regretting it immediately.

The servants were unloading the girl from the cart, grunting as they placed her with finality on the floor. Elsa shook her head. She still looked the same as when it happened, still cold and beautiful.

"Anna…" Elsa whimpered, unable to take her eyes off her. The cape she wore still was suspended in the air, an arm raised from when she tried to protect Elsa from the man who currently had her in chains.

But now Elsa was unable to protect her from him, even if she was frozen solid, unable to change anything in the situation. _And it's my fault… _

"I know," Hans said, "isn't she beautiful? My little wife?" Elsa stared at the floor, fixated on her shoes. Hans sent a glare to the musicians, who just stared at Anna's frozen form in awe, then rushed to start playing, the melancholy sounds of violins and tubas and flutes ringing through the air. Hans approached the frozen woman, placing his hands atop her. Elsa narrowed her eyes at him, pulling at the chains as she tried running at him, being jerked back harshly by the bonds.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Hans tutted, waggling an eyebrow at the Queen as she collapsed to her knees, shoulders shaking with violent sobs. Tears began to flow, and there was a crackling noise as ice began to glide over the metal encasing her hands.

"Let…. let go of her," Elsa pleaded weakly, "Anna…. just stop….!"

The musicians had stopped playing, watching the scene before them intensely, scared about what Prince Hans would do. After all, he practically had the entire kingdom in his hands. The Queen was a prisoner, putty in his his fingers. She was vulnerable, and they knew that Hans knew her weakness.

Anna.

The spunky, clumsy, bright young woman who was now a piece of art in the middle of the ballroom. The woman who had done all she could to save Arendelle was now in need of saving herself.

And Elsa was unable to do anything. And Hans knew that. So he was going to use every trick in the book to break her down until she could stand it no more.

Hans removed his hands from Anna, pulling at his white gloves. The elastic snapped as they pulled snugly against his large hands.

"And why should I?" Hans challenged, picking up his chin. Snapping his fingers, the musicians reluctantly started playing again, and Elsa took in a share gasp as she recognized the song.

_The Winter's Waltz_, she thought, watching as Hans took his former position once again, The servants had wheeled the cart out of the ballroom. She watched as Hans swayed pushing Anna side to side in rhythm with the music.

Suddenly it all made sense, Elsa realized, watching Hans' feet slide across the floor.

The wallpaper matched that of the dress Anna wore to her coronation.

The musicians, after looking at them for a while, were in the same position as back then, and she remembered because the same fat man was in the front, his face red as he huffed and puffed on his tuba, which was in bad need of polishing.

The song was the same song that was playing that night, when she watched Hans and Anna dance with one another. On the night he proposed. The night Anna announced the engagement- the night she froze the entire kingdom in an eternal winter.

"….And I didn't bless the marriage," Elsa whispered, blue eyes wide with horror. She knew what he was doing.

He was trying to recreate her coronation. He was trying to make her remember what she had done, how he almost got away with his plan. Of course, as she watched him pull her sister around in graceless dips and rough twirls, she realized there would be one change to his recreation of that night.

Instead of her becoming Queen, he, Prince Hans of the Southern Isles, would be crowned King instead, forcing her to take refuge in a dingy cell, trapped in the one place she called home. Hans' image in her peripheral vision blurred as she cast her head down, chin tucked into her collarbone. Tears splattered on the wooden floor, like raindrops on the sidewalk as she wept. Shards of ice continued to break at her bonds, but she hadn't noticed, to swept up in her emotions.

"Please…." she sobbed, "please don't… don't touch my sister…."

But Hans did not hear, instead caught up in the moment as he grasped Anna's cold hands as tightly as he could. Forlornly, Elsa watched as the two danced, witnessing a party she wasn't invited to.

A dance between a lover and a monster, swallowed whole until there was nothing she could do stop him.

The Winter's Waltz echoed through the air as they danced, and Elsa knew the sad twang of each violin string, each struggling toot of every horn and melancholy jingle of each flute would haunt her for the rest of her time in the prison she called home.

And Anna would be witness every night, but there was nothing she could do to stop it, forced to dance until morning with her spurned lover.


End file.
